Hey thanks for following everybody! I'm glad you have enjoyed my stories thus far. Again, I hope this one ends up being up to par. Thanks for reading!

Prelude

A man stood overlooking the docks of an avid fishing spot on perhaps one of the tallest cliffs in Washington State. A winding back road sat just behind where he stood, though only two cars that he counted had passed as he waited. In the distance, he could hear the sounds of late summer. Girls were screaming joyfully, the low rumble of a crowd that was enjoying a beachside festival could be heard, and about a half hour before there was a collage of fireworks that decorated the sky.

He glanced down once at his watch, then looked over his shoulder and sat on a the railing on the side of the road. An aggravated sigh left his mouth, as the friend he was waiting for was late. As a lifelong law-breaker, he'd found himself in a countless number of sketchy situations. The people he regularly dealt with were even sketchier, but the money he got for dealing pot beat having a full time job.

Lucky I've only been arrested once, the twenty-four year old thought to himself with a smile. He had a D.U.I. on his record from an under age drinking incident, and a breaking-and-entering rap from his pre-teen years that had been wiped from his record at the age of eighteen. The small-time marijuana dealing, and one or two break-ins he'd been involved in had all gone under the radar, making him feel nearly untouchable.

"Where is this guy?" he asked himself, checking his watch again. The passing thought that he might have been set up by a cop crossing his mind, but he'd already planned an escape route if something got suspicious. He knew the area, having grown up there, and practically had the winding paths that lead to the beach, and the woods nearby, mapping out in his mind. He knew where he could go to get away. It was the initial move that had him slightly nervous. He knew he'd have to knock the person down and bolt if he were to get away.

I'm awfully fast on my feet for a smoker, he thought.

A stray firework caught his attention and he jumped, then laughed to himself as he glanced up to the sky to see the smoky residue that accompanied some dying colorful streaks of fire. The crowd in the distance cheered, and he thought maybe upon meeting the guy he could possibly make a trip down to the festival to mingle, or possibly hook up with a girl if he was lucky. With that, he began to text a few friends to see if they had plans for the night while he waited.

In the distance, the squeal of a car's tires could be heard, and he quickly finished the message before slinking a few feet back, away from the winding curve in the road where he stood. He glanced over his shoulder, realizing he was close to the edge of a rock face and sighed once as his heart leapt from the thought of falling.

His phone went off and he looked down, reading a text from his friend. Carter, I'll meet you down there at nine. Meet by west side dock.

He nodded to himself and responded, then clicked his phone off and put it in his pocket.

"I ain't waiting up here all night."

Carter sat back down on the guardrail and outstretched his feet, enjoying the fireworks and the warm air of summer. He couldn't wait to get his hands on some more easy money. It was the only thing that kept him up on the ledge where he sat.

I need to start doing bigger jobs, he thought. Armed robbery; major drug deals. Start robbing the rich people in town...

His eyes drifted up towards some mountains in the far distance, past the outstretched ocean. They were mansions. Everyone drove idealistic cars. The kids went to prep schools and wore the best brands of clothing. The boated the summer, skied every weekend in the winter and had massive house parties that no local cop would touch, merely due to status alone.

Carter looked down at his ripped jeans and lifted the sleeve on his white t-shirt to reveal his farmer's tan. He whipped a cigarette from his pocket and lit it, sliding the small stick of nicotine and tobacco between in his first two fingers, then proceeded to light it up.

A puff of smoke fluttered into the air above his head and he took a deep breath. He got lost in his thoughts of moving up in the world of crime, and got irritated thinking of the spoiled young people who felt they were entitled to any and everything.

A noise from above him made him whip around, and he looked across the street, up another twenty feet or so, of cliff-side. Stray pieces of rock tumbled down the face of the tall structure and rolled onto the asphalt below.

Carter's eyes scanned where tall grass and trees swayed at the top of the small cliff in the darkness. There was nothing he could see, but the atmosphere was beginning to give him the chills. He scolded himself for being scared of nothing, then turned back to face the ocean, recognizing the hair had stood up on the back of his neck.

The feeling that someone was watching him filled his mind, and his body. It had increased by the minute, and he attempted to pre-occupy himself by playing on his phone and thinking of what he would do with the money he was about to receive. His untied dirty, white sneaker tapped on the ground in front of him in a nervous tick and he continued to puff on the cigarette to calm himself down.

More small rocks crumbled and crashed down into the street, barely visible from the tiny nature of their size. The breeze, the winds, and the unidentifiable noises continued to make Carter's mind wander, and he relocated down the road just slightly to try to remain more unpredictable. His hand grazed a small knife he typically kept in the pocket of his jeans, though it didn't make him feel secure. He began to wonder why he said he would meet up on the ledge in the first place, and the invincible feeling he had just minutes before began to fade.

Scared of ghosts now, Carter? he asked himself in his mind, shaking his head. What are you twelve years old again?

He flicked the cigarette angrily off the edge of the cliff, then reached in his pocket for another one and reminded himself to relax. His eyes met the luxurious houses again that decorated the water's edge in the distance and he began to fantasize about robbing each family for everything they were worth. It took his mind off the feeling he couldn't shake; that feeling that someone was watching.

What Carter didn't recognize, is that his feeling was right on and that he was wrong to ignore it. The human sixth sense was sometimes passed off as nothing more than a feeling, or at times coincidence when the gut-feeling proved to be right. Carter's sixth sense was pleading with his brain to recognize the danger that lurked, but he chose to put it out of his mind to focus on what he considered to be reality.

What he forced himself to think about were drugs, money, and girls. What he should have been focusing on, was the immediate danger his subconscious was telling him about. Unfortunately, when a human finally recognized that they were justified in their feelings, it was often too late.